FuriAmeriKuri
by TheFuriKuriPenguin
Summary: Meh. Title sucks. Not going to bother with the summary. Better than my other story. Please read. Please review. SALVATION IS UPON US! CHAPTER 2 FINALLY UP!
1. Sporks and Vespas

Well. Here we are again. Yup. New story...should be better than the old one. That's not saying much though. It generally takes place in the third person. I took Firefox Rocco's advice and sorta un-Mary-Sue-ed it. So if that makes it any better...whatever. This time I would like some reviews. You know, an initiative to keep writing? Bastards. Here you go.

_-Italics inside dashes represent thought.-_

FuriAmeriKuri, Chapter 1- Nazi Sporks and Deranged Vespas

_-Nothing ever happens here. Everything is ordinary in this stupid little suburban town of Bluetree, Indiana. It's not so quiet recently, though. We're getting craploads of big company names. Wal-Mart, Starbucks, Home Depot... The most exciting thing to happen was about a week ago, the government finished their bigass new factory slash military base thing, codename Medmech. It's shaped like a giant iron. All the adults started celebrating, You know, getting drunk, tipping cows, murdering kittens, tipping hobos, the usual crap in my town.-_

_-Adults are really stupid.-_

_-For one thing, why the hell would you build a friggin' factory slash military base in the shape of an iron? Jeez, why not a blender? Blenders are friggin' AWESOME! Anyways, back to the stupid iron thing. It spews out this white foggy crap at the same time every day. It covers everything, as if it's shutting us off from the rest of the world. Like it's saying "Yeah right stupid ass. You're not going anywhere." -_

Andrew groaned. He groaned because it was a damn school day. He'd like to go back in time, find the retarded moron who thought up the idea of wasting kid's youthfulness by putting them in a room and teaching them "TWO PLUS TWO EQUALS EIGHT, RETARDS!". He'd like to find that man and stab him with a plunger many, many times. Andrew groaned again and crawled out of bed. He lethargically got dressed and walked down the stairs. He looked out the back door, but his view was blocked because one of the kittens was climbing on the screen door again.

"No kitty, get off the door."

"...meow?"

"NO, kitty, get off the friggin' door."

"...meow?"

"NO KITTY THAT'S A BAD GODDAMN KITTY GET OFF THE FRIGGIN' DOOR OR I'M GONNA KICK YOUR KITTY ASS!"

"...meow?"

"Whatever."

Andrew's argument with the cat had made him hungry. He ate a pop-tart. Pop-tarts were good. Sugar goooood. He walked out the door without saying goodbye to his parents. Why? Because his parents, along with his little brother, were somewhere in Florida. Andrew dislikes hot temperatures, so his mother figured he was old enough to stay home by himself for a while. Ho-hum. Andrew continued on his merry way, walking to school. He wasn't on the bus because there was a little incident the year before concerning the exhaust pipe, a match, and a very stupid second grader. So he walked. It wasn't a particularly bad walk, except for the fact that A) He was walking to school and B) When he was turning the corner out of his neighborhood, someone zoomed past him on a yellow moped, driving through a puddle and soaking him. This thoroughly pissed him off. Andrew had a strong urge to throw a pastry at it. But he had no such fruit filled breadlike object, so he turned to the now speeding away moped thing.

"OY! BITCH! GET BACK HERE AND APOLOGIZE TO ME THIS GODDAMN INSTANT!"

The figure on the moped turned around and flipped him off. Andrew sighed and continued walking. -_Well that's just friggin' great. Damn adults. They get on our cases, trying to get us polite, and there are people like that driving around.-_

Andrew arrived at school, soaked and pissed off. He scurried to his first class to avoid being late. He had perfect attendance since kindergarten and no asshole moped-driving retard was going to change that. His first class was FCS, which stood for 'Family Consumer Sciences'. The school called it that because Home Ec or Cooking would drive most of the male students away. Not that they had a choice. It was mandatory. Goddamn schoolboard bastards. Andrew didn't mind, because he got to relax for the most part. He had a few friends in the class. I won't go into great detail with all the classes because that would take too damn long. He got out of FCS, went to Study Hall, then lunch, Algebra, (-_Bastard Algebra teacher trying to confuse me by asking what zero divided by eight is. He asked the kid behind me, and his head imploded due to too much thought, or lack thereof.-)_, then Gym. Andrew collapsed approximately seventy five point five times in gym. Andrew is a nerd, and proud of it. Andrew is to gym class what Michael Jackson is to a daycare. BAD. No es bueno. He finished off the day with Language Arts, which doesn't totally suck. Andrew likes to read. With school done, Andrew begins to walk home.

"Sheesh...I feel like someone's watching me...HA! YOU THINK I DON'T SEE YA BACK THERE, DO YA? NAZI SPORK BASTARDS!"

Andrew points to a bush. The random pedestrians look at him like he's insane (he is), then continue on their pedestrian-y business.

BUT!

Back in the shadows, behind the bush, a spork with a Nazi wristband is panicking and talking into an imaginary walkie talkie.

"ACH! ZEE BOY HAS DEESCOVERED OUR PLAN TO REVIVE ZEE GREAT HITLAH BY STEELING ALL THE WHALD'S MAILBOXES! ABOHT! ABOHT! WHEN I DIE, ONE THOUSAND MORE SHALL RISE! HAIL HITLAH!"

The spork then self-destructs. Let us have a moment of silence. Moment's up. Andrew continued to his house, -_Where's my mailbox...?-_walked in the door, grabbed a bag of Doritos and a Vanilla Coke, and sits down to watch T.V. His oh-so-precious screen watching is interruped by knock on the door. He ignores it, and continues to stare at the boob tube (heh. i said boob.) Then the person at the door rings the doorbell several times. Andrew continues to igore it. Then an explosion with more earth-shattering properties than Oprah's voice is heard. Andrew scoots to the hallway, to see that the door has been blown off it's hinges. He can see the silhouette of someone in the doorway.

"JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? JESUS-TAP-DANCING-CHRIST!"

Andrew bellows at the figure as he approaches the doorway. He would have spewed more rudeness, but a guitar came swinging out of nowhere, smashing into Andrew's forehead and knocking him out. The figure steps into the house, revealing another, shorter person on the lawn. Silhouette number one kicks Andrew in the head.

"Tch. This kid's worse than you, Ta-Kun. One hit and he's unconscious."

The figure in the yard, aka Silhouette number two, shrugs and Silhouette number one walks further into the house, dragging Andrew with it.

Well? Much better, yes? Review, or face the wrath of the suicidal Nazi spork!


	2. Cor blimey!

Dear sweet flaming hourglasses, it's been awhile. I am terribly, terribly sorry to have kept you waiting. My computer has been dead...uh...RuneScape. Yeah. RuneScape has claimed most of my free time. Right. Well, Merry Christmas, Happy Haunnakuh (I probably spelled that wrong), Happy Kwanzaa, or whatever the hell you celebrate.

One last thing: My ideas are like a fine wine. The longer they sit and ferment, they better they get. On with the show!

FuriAmeriKuri Chapter 2: Cor Blimey! t3- -WT\3$$

-_...BLLLLLEEEEEEEEAAAAAAUUUUUURRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHTTTTT. Goddammit...what happened? Uh...lessee...walk to school...zero divided by 2...Nazi sporks...mailbox gone...boob tube...uh...AH! I REMEMBER! THAT BITCH ON THE MOPED! THE ONE THAT SOAKED MY CLOTHES AND FLIPPED ME OFF! SHE HIT ME WITH A FREAKING GUITAR! I'M FREAKING UNCONSCIOUS! GODDAMMIT! SYSTEM REBOOT!-_

Deep, deep below Andrew's skull, he had a brain. Not just any brain though. A brain with an Intel Pentium 4 Processor duct taped to it. The little...chippy...thingy...started to beep and light up, and we can zoom in and see lots of little people scrambling around a set of office cubicles.

Cubicle A- "COME ON LAZYASSES! MOVE IT!"

Cubicle B- "WE HAVE SMELL! SMELL IS ONLINE!"

Cubicle C- "HEARING ONLINE!"

Cubicle D- "TASTE! ...I want some Taco Bell..."

Cubicle F- "Feeling is online! Hey...there's somethin kinda heavy on top of us...and our general face area is buried in something fuzzy..."

Cublcle B- "You're right! It smells like...oranges and lilacs and chocolates on a bright summer's day..."

Cubicle C- "...Pansy. I don't hear anything, sir...well...there's some kinda mumbling, but since we're UN-FREAKIN-CONSCIOUS, I can't make it out."

Cubicle A- "DAMMIT! I WANT SIGHT BACK ONLINE POST HASTE, BITCHES!"

Andrew's eyes begin to flicker open.

Cubicle G- "Sight is online!"

At that particular moment, mostly because I'm tired of typing cubicle, all the rest of Andrew's bodily functions turned back on. His eyes shot fully open, and he saw...pink. Lots and lots of pink. It was a pinkapalooza. He also smelled oranges, lilacs, and chocolates. Odd. He moaned and groaned as if he were getting up for school. He _tried_ to get up, but ya know, there was that heavy thing I mentioned earlier...yeah. That kinda stopped him. So he stopped moving for awhile and listened. He could hear that sizzly sound grease makes when you put it on a frying pan. Someone...was...using his kitchen! HAD BEEN IN HIS REFRIGERATOR? BASTARDS! Andrew made another futile attempt to get up. No luck. Well, something moved. The lump of pink something on to of him rolled over. Now he saw...yellow? Yellow eyes, more specifically. And a nose. And mouth. Most likely female. Please, God, make it female. The face was about...an inch from Andrew's face, give or take a half. Andrew's brain cubicle people were making a frenzied attempt to find out what was goung on. Now, mind you, these people can name pi to the infinitieth place in the time it takes you to wee. If they are frenzied, something seriously effed up is happening. The face continued to face (ha ha, I made a funny) Andrew for a few seconds more, then the mouth curled into a smile.

"Hmm...well, considering the noises you were making, I take it you enjoyed last night. So, ready for another round?" (Did I just piss off the HarukoxNaota shippers or what? Heh heh...)

Cubicles A through G- "...Cor blimey."

_-...OVERLOAD. OVERLOAD. SYSTEMS CRITICAL. REVERTING TO MANUAL. REPEAT. ACTIVATING MANUAL OVERRIDE.-_

With the speed of a thousand cheetahs, Andrew shot off the couch and out from under the pink lump, (Cubicles- "NOOOO!") and perched on top of the T.V. From there, he could see all. The lump which was on top of him was, indeed, a female. Actually, she looked like she was Xeroxed right out of an anime. She looked to be in her late teens, maybe twenty. She had a rather nice body, Andrew had to admit. And a nice face, and a nice, beautiful, pair of...eyes. Yeah. Andrew ripped his eyes away from t3h hwtn3ss with some difficulty. He looked into the kitchen to find...a robot. A freaking robot. AN HONEST TO GOD ROBOT! Making bacon and eggs! WTF? He continued to scan the room and thought that was it when he some a kid sulking in the shadows. Well, he was sitting in the La-Z-Boy, but you know what I mean. He was a year or two younger (Make that two, Naota's twelve and I turned fourteen in October) than Andrew. He was wearing a light blue hoodie with shorts. What kind of retard wears shorts with a sweatshirt? The kid was also shooting Andrew a death glare. Andrew continued to perch on the 'tube for a few more seconds, listening to the bacon sizzle. Well, he was mostly staring at the girl's...eyes. When he finally regained the ability to speak he was tempted to forget it all and dive back under the hot girl. But, he didn't.

Andrew- "...Who are you...and...what the hell ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE!"

Silence for a few minutes. Then, the girl smirked and spoke up.

"Well, I am Miss Haruhara Haruko, and your parents ordered a sitter for you!"

Andrew- "You're kidding. You're freaking kidding. A SITTER! ...Goddammit..."

He turned to the kid.

Andrew- "And what about you?"

"...It's not like I wanna be here or anything. This crazy woman drags me with her everywhere she goes."

The crazy woman the grabs the boy and nuzzles his cheek.

Haruko- "Only 'cause I can't bear to go anywhere without my little Ta-kun!"

Andrew- T.T "What about meeeee? And what the hell is a talk...koon?"

Ta-kun(?)- "Aaaagh! Get off, get off! My name's not Ta-kun, it's Naota!"

Andrew- "Riiight then Naota...what's with the robot?"

Haruko- "makes that little myu noise Oh that's not a robot. That's a...Canti 5700 Meal Cooking Vacuum Cleaner. I'm a housekeeper, too."

Andrew- "I wasn't talking to you. And do I look retarded to you? My GPA is 12. My parents are in Florida. On a cruise ship. Cell-phone-less. They didn't order a sitter slash housekeeper. That-jabs his thumb at the kitchen is a robot. R-O-B-O-T. Gundam. Evangelion. Megas XLR. That is not a bacon cookin' vacuum. Now, tell me what is going on here or I'll sue your asses for assault and battery."

Haruko leaps at him from behind and does that thing where she hugs someone from behind and puts her face reeeeeal close to the other person's.

Haruko- whispers "You're right. We're here for something else. But, tell you what. You just pretend I'm your maid, and I'll make it worth your while. Okay?"

Andrew doesn't answer for a moment. He just sits there and basks in the moment. It's not every day your average 14-year-old-citizen is this close to an extremely hot anime-ish girl.

Andrew- "Gaaahhhhh...Yeah. That works. I'll pretend I don't know anything, so long as I at least know what's going on. Deal?"

Haruko- "Deal"

Cest magnifique! Chapter 2 is finally up! Now, to clear up a few things. I know, I know, some people are gonna be pissed at the HarukoxAndrew stuff. But it's all in good fun, aye? I'll try to keep it light. I swear. This all takes place after the original FLCL. BUT! It's alternate ending. This is what would happen if Naota did go with Haruko on her flying Vespa. The whole FLCLimax episode happened, with the "I love you" and the kiss thing, so there's gonna be some blood between Andrew and Naota. That's all for now. Read, review, AU REVOIR BITCHES!


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